


The Voices in My Head Speak to Yours

by chaosminion



Category: Iron Man - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Loki needs a shit ton of hugs, M/M, Mental Anguish, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Tony Needs a Hug, oh boy this is rough, safe place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8790481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosminion/pseuds/chaosminion
Summary: One time Loki snaps Tony out of his mind, and one time Tony breaks Loki out of his madness.





	1. It's never enough

**Author's Note:**

> I went from fluff to angst in the span of 24 hours. Hahahaha. Merry Christmas. This was partly inspired by an amazing FrostIron fic I just finished, and I wanted the practice of getting into each character's head space. First up is Tony.

_~One time Loki snaps Tony out of his mind._

Quiet. 

It was too quiet. 

Silent. 

Like a crypt. 

Like a cave. 

A cave and a crypt. ‘Kay’ for kill. 

Oh god, he’s killed so many. 

Not now, focus. 

Move the fingers, take the soldering iron and build something breathtaking.

Take a breath. Breathe in. Oxygen to lungs that travels to the heart and the brain that increases the output of his thoughts. 

But what if he hated his thoughts?

Worse yet, what if his thoughts hated him?

Hatred swirled around his mind, running like an infection that crippled and tarnished everything he did and created. People hated him and used his machines against him. Even ones he built to be self sufficient, sacrificed for, turned against him, tried to destroy the world, tried to destroy Tony. 

Funny, Tony destroyed him instead. Kill a monster, kill a friend. 

He should have known friends were never meant for him. He either hurt them, or friends hurt him. Or they died for him, and Tony was forever straining and stretching himself to the limit to make sure each loving sacrifice was not in vain. 

He didn’t deserve this life they forced him to keep. But he kept it anyway. To do otherwise would be a sin. He had to keep going. 

For Yinsen. 

For Pietro. 

For Jarvis. 

For himself and the redemption that was always just out of reach. If he could only get this suit right. If he could protect this world, protect these people, make it better, make it stronger, fill it with the clicks and whirls of machines that poured Tony’s love into the society that he had always wanted to be a part of. 

Once his crafting had just been distractions. The only true meaning on a road paved with self destructive tendencies. Weapons were not the focus, neither was energy. 

It was the discovery of life, of magic, of science, of everything in the universe. Taking atoms and light and twisting them at his fingertips to create something no one had thought of before. 

Now it was a race. Finish this, make it stronger, make it faster, make it better, more efficient. Find the weakness early, detect the alarms, find the bad guy. 

And kill him. 

Kill him before he kills you. Before he finds your weakness and exploits it. Kill him before he can shove you in a dark, quiet cave, and make you suffer for your gift. Kill him before he can hurt the ones who matter. The ones who took the time and energy to look Tony in the eyes and tell him that _he_ mattered. 

When Bruce shares a new discovery, Tony matters. When Steve puts vegetables on Tony’s plate and asks if he’s gotten enough sleep, Tony matters. When Natasha subtly steps between Tony and danger, he matters. When Clint trades movie jokes and innuendos, Tony matters. Not for what he can do, but for _who he is_.

So he has to finish this. He has to build, he has to create, he has to prove that their judgement is not misplaced. He has to move these fingers and stop staring at this goddamn soldering iron and get to work, or the world will be lost, and his friends will be lost, and his soul will be lost…

“Anthony.”

The purr of a Jaguar. V8 engine. Emerald green and smooth as a dream. Dark leather seats. Coffee. Someone’s hands on his, cool skin, folding them around a warm mug. A heavier weight settling on his shoulders. 

Oh, it’s a hug. 

“Hey, cupcake,” he says, his voice detaching from his thoughts, finally lifting his eyes from the mess of something on his table. The soft breath on his ear is distracting. It’s a good rhythm, though. 

In, out. In, out. Chuckle. 

“Your isolation is at an end. I have come to take you away.”

A sip of coffee, and his chest is warm again. Not too hot. “To your castle in the sky?”

“If that is what you wish. I will take you anywhere you desire to go, Anthony.”

Oh, if promise was a sound, it would be his voice. So many promises…. so little time.

“I have work.” I should stay, but I need you to make me leave. 

“I know.” A nose on his ear, a hint of teeth on his neck. Melting never felt so good. “Your work is exceptional. But even kings take their rest, and my patience has its limits. Put your work down, and let me have you.”

He couldn’t argue with that voice. Not when it saturated his bones and filled him with a different need. Yes, ok, different focus. Loki first, then save the world. What could be simpler? Steve and the others could hold down the fort. Or Tower. Or castle. Or whatever. 

“ _An_ thony.”

“Sorry, Sweetums. Yup, I’m done. See? Putting that away. Jarvis, lock the files and the lab up, you know the drill. Take me away, foul villain! I am yours to do with as you please.”

That smile…. goddamn that smile. And those fucking arms that could make Tony feel as weightless as an oxygen molecule. Why did he shove himself down in this dingy work shop again? 

“I am not your average villain, you know.”

“Well, I’m no Disney princess.”

“I will do horrible, filthy things to you.”

“As long as I like it, we’re good.”

“I believe you will.” Tony knew he would. “You’re safe in my hands, Anthony. No harm will ever come to you.”

How did he know. How did he _always_ know? Strong inhale… weak, shuddering exhale that explodes into a sigh, leaving him depleted and empty. Strong arms pick him up, take him up and up and into the world again. He could breathe again. 

The best kind of quiet, was when it was filled with the steady rhythm of another’s breathing, reminding Tony that he was alive.  


	2. The monster is in my skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One time Tony breaks Loki out of his madness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of imagined violence.

He was surrounded by fools. Fools who thought they could trust him, who thought they were safe within these familiar walls, so close to the darkness that rages just beneath his skin, clawing, biting, scratching to get out. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch, though his nails carved layer after layer of flesh off, reveling in the slight pain it brought. 

Did they not _see_? Did they not _understand_?

They laughed and joked, all the while pretending the monster was not in their midst, that Loki was not the shadow that blotted the sun of their youthful realm. 

Ah, but he had fed them lies, sweet honey dripping from his forked tongue. Of lessons learned, and fears revealed, and a reaching hand begging to be taken and pulled. He may be reformed for a moment, playing his part for now, but the darkness was always waiting, always watching for the opportunity to remind him that he would never truly belong. 

Fools. And he was the biggest fool of all. 

He knew how this would end. One mistake would lead to another, would lead to a frantic need to patch it, fix it, yet watch it slip and fall and shatter. 

And he would be falling again… falling…. always falling… into the deep black void that had claimed his broken soul as its own. Even now he heard their voices, mocking, laughing, begging him to return. 

The others didn’t understand because they didn’t know. Loki’s greatest ability was failure. He would fail in this realm as he had done in the last, whether by his own hand or by another’s. Nothing good ever lasted for him. Not family, not status, not wealth, not abilities. It all melted, broke, shattered like the bridge beneath the hammer. Leaving him with nothing. 

He ought to return to the void now, and spare the people close to him the prolonged suffering. He could give them that, at least. These mortals did not deserve the chaos he would unleash when Loki’s control finally snapped, when his madness once more took over, and he destroyed what small amounts of trust and bonds he had struggled to build with his blood stained hands. 

Loki did not want this madness. It tore at him in its rage, screamed for depraved things that Loki was unwilling to give. Shrieked and howled until Loki wanted to weep and beg for the noise to stop, _stop_ , **stop**! 

There was only one way to make it stop…

_“Hey babe, are you in there?”_

The shield covered in blood…. the spider’s limbs torn from her body…

_“Hey Lokes, is this too much?”_

The hawk and falcon ripped of their wings and cast high in the sky to fall to the pavement… hear the crack of their skulls….

_“Shit, Lokes, you’re bleeding. Let go, ok? Just let go, that’s it. How the fuck did you get those nails so sharp? We cut them yesterday.”_

The green monster buried at the bottom of the ocean…..

_“Loki, look at me.”_

And Tony….

_“That’s it, I’m right here.”_

Tony….

“Anthony,” he gasped, his focus snapping back to the present, to the walls of the Tower, to the glass that separated him and Tony from the crowd, the crowd who hadn’t even known of the dark horrors swirling in Loki’s mind. 

“I’ve got you, babe,” Tony whispered, curling his arms around the dark head that collapsed on his shoulder, holding the god while he shook and struggled to breathe, gasping in shock, making soft keening noises of despair. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry!” Loki whispered, stunned that he had not actually hurt anyone this time. 

“I know. No one else noticed, I promise.”

“They wouldn’t stop!”

“I know. I think all the noise was too much. I should have been paying closer attention.”

“You should not have to- to nurse a pathetic, useless weakling-”

“Hey, we talked about this. No negative words about yourself, right?”

“But it’s what I _am_ , Anthony!” he sobbed, clutching tighter to the sturdy frame. Tony gave no indication if Loki’s strength was hurting him or not. “I am not fit for decent company!” 

The mortal let out an amused scoff. “Gee, what does that make me, then?”

Loki had no retort, no wit to spare, only the energy to slump in Tony’s arms, exhausted from the mental battle. 

“Take me away,” he begged, his breath barely stirring the brown locks of hair so close to his lips. 

“Yeah, I’ve got this. A nice comfy bed, and blankets, and the classical violins that you love so much.”

Loki took a shuddering breath, straightening just slightly. His eyes flickered to the glass, but the rest of the team, the ones with good hearts and tragic pasts, were carrying on with their revelry. Loki’s absence was noticed, but not worried over. Tony was with him. Tony made him better. 

“Give me one thing,” he asked. 

“Anything, Sweet Cheeks,” Tony answered, brushing his warm lips, vibrant with life, against Loki’s cold, dead skin. 

“I need the voices to stop.”

Tony’s smile was understanding, soft as rose petals. Loki had once feared his requests were too crazy, abnormal and wrong. Tony corrected that misconception. There was nothing wrong with wanting to feel safe. 

“I’ll get the rope,” he said, hugging Loki closer, as if he could mold them together and make them one. Loki sometimes wondered if his heart had ceased to function, and it was Tony’s that beat in its stead. “You want the whole shebang?”

Loki shook his head, feeling more centered with the prospect of being contained. “Just the arms. I should… be fine with that.”

“You’ve got it, babe.”

Restrained and warm, nestled in bed next to the only one who mattered, Loki felt the quiet begin to settle, his mind relaxing, the darkness receding until next time. He would not fret about it now. The binds kept him in place, stable and safe, and Tony’s fingers in his hair kept the hatred at bay. 

Someone loved him. Someone understood. Loki closed his eyes. 

Blessedly, the voices were silent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just to clarify, there is nothing sexual about what Loki is asking for at the end. His arms are restrained and tied up, but that's what makes him feel safe and secure, next to Tony. He doesn't have to worry about lashing out, or controlling himself, the ropes help him relax.


End file.
